A Force to be Reckoned With
by Mockingjay2001
Summary: When Bruce is kidnapped and held for ransom for either Loki's Scepter or a deadly assassin's release, the Avengers and SHIELD attempt to find a loophole around it. Little do they know, the Spectrum Agency is a force to be reckoned with. No OC romance at the moment.
1. Chapter 1

**Wow. First time I've posted on here in ages.**

 **I have thoroughly edited this many times and debated on posting it, but I decided why not? Don't have much more to loose on here.**

 **Be aware of spontaneous updates, I don't update on a particular day/week.**

 **Please let me know if you find any mistakes such as spelling and grammar errors, and especially MARY SUES.**

 **DISCLAIMER: Marvel owns the Avengers. I am not Marvel. So I do not own the Avengers. I am not trying to make a profit off of this either, this is purely for entertainment.** **I do own my OCs and the plot** **.**

Chapter 1

"You said this would be fun – this is not fun at all," Madeline muttered into her com, frowning and leaning back against the thick slab of granite that acted as a bar. She had yet to touch her drink, some sort of fruity cocktail, despite the fact that she had been sitting at the bar for a good half an hour.

"You don't think being at a fancy party surrounded by famous people is fun? What part of that _isn't_ fun?" Charlotte demanded from across the room as she took a sip of her champagne. She fit the part of 'rich socialite' to a T, with her perfect makeup, curly hair that wasn't too curly, naturally haughty expression, and expensive gown that resembled a gold version of Jessica Rabbit's red dress to Madeline. "And wipe that frown off your face, you're attracting too much attention."

"Being surrounded by people is not fun," Madeline replied with a sigh, doing as her friend said and resting a hand on her chin instead, being careful not to smear her makeup that Ellie had spent over an hour painstakingly applying and threatened her with death if she so much as smudged it. "It's nerve wracking."

"I've had to go to these things for years Gold, and I wouldn't exactly call them fun," a British accented voice cut in. Madeline spotted Jazmine out of the corner of her eye on the balcony in a revealing but still classy and no doubt couture cocktail dress, a cigarette lifted to her red lips by long fingers despite the fact that there were several signs prohibiting smoking in the ballroom. "More like dreadful and unavoidable." Despite the fact that Jazmine was actually rich (well, her father was anyway) and a socialite (only when she was at her father's side or in the spotlight), Charlotte still fit and played the rich socialite role better than Jazmine herself. 'Mysterious vixen' suited her sister much more than 'rich socialite' ever would.

(She believed that William had actually called Jazmine that once, resulting in him getting a black eye, a split lip and an hour long lecture about how if he ever called her that again, she would 'tear out his tongue and shoved it down his throat' among other threats, much to Madeline's amusement and William's horror)

And then there was Madeline, who felt like a five year old girl playing dress up with her mommy's clothes, with her overly-revealing and extravagant emerald (her least favorite color but Ellie had insisted on it since it supposedly brought her eyes) gown and lipstick ten shades too bright for her taste and the five inch heels that were a size too big because she was borrowing them from Jazmine and in result was she constantly tripping over her own feet, due to both the height and the ill-fitting shoes themselves, and blind as a bat without her glasses. She'd rather be having a Doctor Who marathon or walking through Central Park or taking the SAT and the ACT again or getting arrested or _literally doing anything else_ than being surrounded by overly wealthy people who didn't have anything else better to do with their time than buy overly expensive suits and gowns and throw lavish parties where they would fake smiles and fake laughs and fake friendships, all while eating and drinking the night away, then go home to their mansions and wake up the next morning with a hangover and do it all again.

Madeline didn't have a particularly pleasant opinion of the upper class of society.

"There he is, ten o' clock," Charlotte said, breaking Madeline train of thought. "That's your target Violet-"that was Madeline's code name, along with her favorite color, despite her protests "-go get 'em."

Madeline glanced up. There he was, the famous (or more accurately infamous) billionaire genius himself, Tony Stark. He wore a tux and a cocky grin that implied he owned the place (it wouldn't surprise her if he did). But no matter how much she wanted to put him in his place, he wasn't the target. The man with the glasses, curly hair, and the purple tie next to him, however, was. He looked rather bookish and, like herself, like he'd rather be elsewhere. He didn't look particularly threatening. Except for the fact that he turned into a huge green rage monster when he got angry, at least according to the SHIELD database that Ellie had hacked into. Hopefully, it was wrong, because Madeline had no desire to get squashed by a giant beast of her least favorite color.

She got up from her barstool and almost fell over, because her legs were numb and her heels were too high. She shushed Charlotte's laughing over the coms, then made her way over to Dr. Banner, forcing a sultry smile onto her lips. It was show time.

-o-

Tony noticed the woman before Bruce did. She was pretty – ashy blonde hair pulled up with vintage hairpins and green eyes the same shade as her dress, which showed off her figure quite nicely – but much too young for him; she couldn't have been over 25. Plus he had Pepper, which was a much larger factor than age. But she was still walking towards him with that little smile on her lips, so he smiled back; it was the polite thing to do after all.

"Hello," he greeted with a charming grin. "Tony Stark, nice to meet you."

She regarded him the same way one would regard mold growing on a loaf of bread. "That's fantastic," she said, her voice laced with disdain. She then reached over and tapped Bruce on the shoulder with a thin finger.

"Tony, you're being rude-"his eyes locked onto the young woman, who looked rather startled. "Oh hello, are you one of Tony's friends?"

"No," she replied shortly with a scowl, as if being friends with him was the worst thing in the world, then her face returned to a pleasant smile. "You are Bruce Banner, correct? My friend is a big fan of your work," she said, gesturing to the balcony where a young woman wearing a red dress was perched. "Would you mind meeting her up there? She's not very good with crowds, very claustrophobic."

"Sure, sure. I'll see you later, Tony." Bruce allowed the young woman to lightly grab his arm and tug him off in the direction of the stairs. Tony waved as Bruce disappeared into the crowd. Maybe he would meet a nice girl, since he always seemed rather lonely. He noticed that the young woman had dropped something – it looked like a business card. He bent down and picked it up, flipping it over. There was a violet lipstick stain on it, with a number written in swirled handwriting under the word 'Spectrum'. Tony shrugged and put it in his suit pocket. It might come in handy if Bruce made friends with that nice girl. He didn't notice that the woman hadn't been taking him in the direction of the staircase, or that the young woman in red on the balcony and the woman in gold across the room had both disappeared into thin air.

-o-

"This isn't the stairwell," Bruce stated as they arrived in a back room. He really hoped she wasn't one of those crazy fangirls, but most of them didn't act like Tony was Satan so it was unlikely.

"Nope," she said, her back facing him and her hand still clutching his arm. Suddenly, she pulled out one of the hair pins from her hair and stabbed him in the neck, like a viper biting its prey. The needle thin point sunk into his carotid artery with ease, the poison entering his blood stream immediately. Madeline yanked the hair pin out and Bruce fell to the ground, twitching and unconscious. The success of a completed mission and her poison at work put a small smile on her lips, but she also felt a pang of regret. Dr. Banner seemed like a nice man, judging by the few minutes of small talk they had shared on the way to the 'balcony'. She was pulled from her thoughts when Charlotte and Jazmine appeared out of seemingly nowhere. Charlotte grabbed his feet while Jazmine grabbed his arms.

"Dang, he's pretty light," Charlotte muttered. "For a guy."

"Did you take care of the cameras and security?" Madeline asked as she opened the emergency exit that led into the alley. It was in between the ballroom and a hotel, and was wide enough to fit a car in, which was exactly what was waiting for them in the alley.

"Yep, Ellie looped the footage as soon as we got here," Jazmine replied, opening the trunk with one hand. "And it only took a dose of poison for the guards to be out. Good job with the poison, by the way."

"So, who wants to cut out the tracking chip?" Charlotte interrupted, bringing her hands together and producing a sharp crack.

"He has a tracking chip?" Jazmine asked, raising an eyebrow.

"He's part of the Avengers, so I'm assuming he has one," Charlotte said with a shrug. "So who wants to find it and cut it out? Because it ain't gonna be me."

Madeline wrinkled her nose. "Not me either. I don't enjoy cutting into people and I don't have my glasses." They simultaneously looked over at Jazmine, who was already pulling a wickedly sharp dagger out from God knows where.

"Okay, I'll do it, you bunch of wimpy Americans," she muttered. "Just hold him still…"

-o-

"That was nice and quick for a change," Charlotte commented as she slid into the driver's seat. Jazmine was in the passenger's seat and Madeline was in the back. Dr. Banner was stuffed in the trunk of the car. "No gun men, no lasers, no assassins, no ninjas..."

"Ninjas are just cowards in pajamas," Madeline muttered as Charlotte started the car. "They have no honor."

"Never thought of it that way," Jazmine commented as they drove out of the alley, and into New York traffic. "But I wonder how long it'll take them to figure out that their good doctor has gone missing?"

Charlotte pursed her lips and tapped her long nails on the steering wheel. "With Stark's lack of attention span, Romanoff and Barton's absence, Roger's super senses, and Thor being Thor, I give them… two hours, fifty four minutes, and eleven seconds."

 **Beta: my absolutely fantastic friend Mercy.**

 **Please review, follow, favorite, etc.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: see chapter 1**

Chapter 2

"Hey Stark, do you know where Dr. Banner went?" Steve asked exactly two hours, fifty four minutes and eleven seconds later. The party was almost over, and most of the guests had gone home. Except Tony, that is. He figured that Bruce was probably tired and needed a ride, since it was obvious that Tony wasn't leaving any time soon.

"Nope," he slurred, swaying back and forth. He was clearly drunk. "He went with some girl, she was kinda pretty… don't think I got her name though."

Steve sighed. Bruce was the least likely out of everyone to go home with a girl, which meant he was still in or near the ballroom somewhere. "What color was she wearing?"

"Umm… green! Dark green, same color as her eyes! She had really nice eyes! And she dropped this." Tony fumbled with a business card from his suit pocket and handed it to Steve, almost dropping it in the process. He flipped it over and frowned.

"Spectrum, I think I've heard that name before…."

"Spectrum?" Steve jumped and turned around to see Natasha standing next to him, peering over his shoulder to see the card and wearing a black evening gown.

"Natasha? I thought you were in D.C."

"We were, until Dr. Banner's tracking device was pulled out." She held out a small microchip about the size of a thumbnail, smeared with blood. "We found this two blocks from here, at a Chinese restaurant. We need to go. If Spectrum is behind this, then it's worse than we thought." She was already making her way through the crowd, towards the front door. Steve quickly grabbed Tony's arm and dragged him along as he ran to catch up with Natasha.

"Natasha! What are we doing? Where's Dr. Banner?" Steve called as she strode through the front doors and towards a black SUV, ignoring Tony's drunken protests that the after party hadn't even started. She climbed into the passenger side and Steve saw that Clint was the one driving, so he climbed into the backseat, pulling Tony with him.

Natasha turned around to look Steve in the eye. "Dr. Banner has been kidnapped by the Spectrum Agency. And we're going to get him back."

-o-

"Hello? Sir, are you awake?" a voice called. He was laying on his back, probably on a bed. Bruce could smell antiseptics and the sharp scent of chemicals – a tell-tale sign of a hospital. Or some sort of medical wing, since he doubted his kidnappers would take him to a hospital…

Kidnappers. It all played back in his head. Tony and him at the party. A smiling young woman in green tugging him along to meet her friend. The woman in the green stabbing him in the neck. The world fading to black. His eyes flew open and he bolted up, his head hitting something hard and the sound of something (or someone) hitting the floor. There was a sharp pain in his neck, along with his right arm. He glanced down to see that the upper part of his right arm was wrapped in bandages, along with the side of his neck. There was also an IV attached to his arm.

"Owww…" someone muttered on the floor. He peeked over the side of the bed and saw a girl lying on the floor, clutching her forehead. She couldn't have been over 16, even though her round face and childish features made her look even younger. What caught his attention, though, was her hair. It started pale blue at the roots, then faded to the color of a spring sky, then navy into teal, and the ends were tipped with a mint green.

"Nice hair," he commented on impulse as she stood up shakily, clutching the side of the bed for support.

"Thanks, I dyed it myself," she replied, hand still rubbing her forehead. There was a spray of freckles all across her face, like someone had flicked paint at her. "Y'know, maybe I should stop standing over people while I wait for them to wake up, 'cause it always ends badly for me."

"Where am I?" he asked, glancing around the room. There were several beds lined up in a row, him on the last one closest to the wall, which were painted a sterile white. There were no windows, just one plain looking white door across from his bed. A cart full of medical supplies sat next to his bed, along with a chair, and there was a wardrobe shoved into the corner on the other side of the row of beds.

"The med bay, we had to pump to poison out of your blood and bandage the spot where we took out your tracker," the girl explained as she straightened out her t-shirt (he inwardly smiled at the sight of Captain America's shield on it) and jeans. She noticed his expression change from neutral to rather horrified at the word 'poison' and added, "It was non-lethal, don't worry, just a knock out drug. Poison's not really the right word for it. We just took it out just in case. Standard procedure."

"What about the IV?" he asked, holding up his arm.

"Uh, that's so you don't, y'know-"she made a large gesture, as if growing bigger. "What do you call it?"

"Hulk out?"

"Yes!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together, a delighted look on her face. "So you don't Hulk out. It's some sort of bacteria, forms around your blood cells and prevents the gamma radiation from manifesting, or something like that. You'd have to ask Liz or Mads for the specifics. We're not exactly sure if it works though, seeing as we don't have anybody to test it on."

"So, you don't know if it works?" Hypothetically, he could try to Hulk out and break out of here, but this girl seemed rather nice and he didn't want the Other Guy to kill her.

"Um, no. But please don't Hulk out, because then we'd have to fix the med bay, and the hallway, and the whole building, and I don't have any cash to pay for it, so please, _please_ don't Hulk out."

She was worried about the hallway, but not her own life. Odd. "Who are you?"

"Ellie, nice to meet you Dr. Banner," she said with a large grin. She had doe-like eyes the color of green highlighters that only added to her youthful appearance and they lit up when she smiled. Ellie seemed like a very bubbly and happy person, judging by the two minutes he had been known her so far. "I'm not sure how much Jaz wants me to tell you, so I'll just leave it at that."

Who was Jaz? Before he could ask, the door opened and a young woman a few years older than Ellie with tanned skin eyeshadow walked in, high heels clicking on the floor. For some reason, the first thing that popped into his head was cheerleader. She wore glittery gold eyeshadow and dark pink lipstick and probably a lot more things but he didn't know much about cosmetics but it didn't look trashy; if anything it suited her. Curly dark brown hair was pulled up into a neat ponytail. Gold hoop earrings and a tarnished silver ring on her thumb was the only jewelry she had on. She was very fit, even the relatively modest blouse and pencil skirt couldn't cover it up. She was definitely some sort of athlete – a runner or a soccer player, or maybe she was a gymnast? But she had the air of a high school cheerleader; glamourous and haughty and charismatic, but the small reminder in the back of people's heads that made people tip-toe around her so they wouldn't get stabbed in the back.

"Ellie, it's already quarter till seven. You're going to be late," the girl stated, raising a thin eyebrow.

"Oh!" She picked up a bag from the floor that he hadn't noticed and waved to him in a childish manner. "Nice meeting you Dr. Banner! See you later!" She skipped out of the room and shut the door on her way out.

The brunette rolled her eyes, which were a pretty shade of amber. "She's a strange child," she muttered, plopping down in the chair and crossing one leg over the other in a lady-like fashion.

"What's she late for?" he asked. Hopefully, if he kept talking, they wouldn't torture him or experiment on him or do whatever thing they brought him here to do. Though, he was wondering why in the world a bunch of teenagers were running the place.

The woman glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. "I'm not going to hurt you, if that's why you're all jumpy. I'm basically here to not make you angry, in case the little potion Liz whipped up in the lab doesn't work." She nodded to his IV. "And she's late for school, she wanted to come visit you before she left. Don't know why, but that's Ellie for you."

A memory from the night before resurfaced, and an image of the woman in front of him in a gold dress, leaning against the wall with a glass of champagne in hand, appeared in his head. "You were at the party last night, weren't you?"

"Hmm? Oh, _that_. Yes, I was. Sorry about the kidnapping thing by the way." She made a dismissive gesture. "I don't usually do that. The kidnapping. I try to avoid those type of assignments, to be honest."

"Is your friend really claustrophobic?" he asked, remembering the woman in green's reason for leading him out of the ballroom.

She raised her eyebrows and thought for a second, not knowing what he was referring to, then scoffed and shook her head. "No. That's a good lie though, Mads is getting better. She's not really a big fan of science either, no offence."

"None taken." That was the second time he heard the name 'Mads'. It was obviously a nickname. He wondered what it was short for. Madison? Maddie? "So where am I, exactly?" Bruce asked, hoping he would get a more specific answer than simply the med bay.

"I can't tell you exactly where you are, for security reasons. But you're with Spectrum at the moment, and eventually, you'll be with SHIELD. If things go well."

"Spectrum?" It didn't sound familiar off the top of his head, he was sure there were other organizations that he didn't know about. He hadn't even known SHIELD existed until after the accident.

"Y'know, since it was based out of Ireland. Ireland. Leprechauns. Rainbows. Color spectrum. We all have code names after colors. It's stupid, but it works," she said with a shrug. "I've petitioned to get the name changed, but it's been around for quite a while. So it stayed Spectrum."

"So, what does Spectrum do?" he asked.

"Stuff." She made a vague hand gesture, and Bruce noticed how long her nails were. They were painted magenta, and could almost be classified as claws. "Classified stuff. Can't tell you, or I'd have to kill you."

"I doubt you could," Bruce s with a humorless chuckle.

"I could try," she replied with an amused smirk. Something inside Bruce told him that there was a very good chance that this woman could kill him, and that he should change the subject right now.

"So, do you usually kidnap people?" he asked, quickly steering away from the topic of his potential death.

"Well, I've been here for a while and you're the first one we've ever kidnapped. We're supposed to keep you here and wait until SHIELD contacts us, asking what we want," she explained, as if telling him what the weather was going to be like that day.

"And what is it that you want?"

A horrifying grin appeared on her lips that a little part of him want to run and hide in fear. It reminded him of Loki's face, just before he tried to drop the helicarrier out of the sky. She leaned forward so that she was not even an inch from his face, their noses almost touching. "I'd tell you, but I'd have to kill you," she whispered with a wink. Suddenly, she pulled her head back and dug her phone out of her pocket. "So," she began, as if nothing happened, "Jaz said that opera is relaxing. How much do you like Carmen?"

 **Beta: Mercy  
Please review, follow, favorite, etc.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you for the reviews! And yes, leprechauns are from Ireland sorry about the typo I'm fixing it now.**

 **Disclaimer: see chapter 1**

Chapter 3

"What do you mean we can't help you rescue Bruce?" Steve demanded, glaring at Fury from across the debriefing room table. "He's part of our team, not SHIELD!"

"Do you even know what Spectrum is?" Fury asked, oddly calm. It was probably a mask though, considering the fact that the Avengers had been arguing (well, more like screaming) with him for over half an hour.

"…no," Tony admitted with a frown. He hadn't heard even a whisper of this 'Spectrum Agency' in government or civilian files alike, which genuinely frightened him. If this Spectrum was that good at hiding from him and JARVIS, then they were a force to be reckoned with.

"Spectrum is like a temp service. Say you want someone murdered, or something stolen. Or maybe the CIA or MI6 just can't do it right. You contact Spectrum, they send a woman, she does what you want, and you pay her directly. They're responsible for all kinds of assassinations and international incidents," Clint explained, leaning against a wall.

"They send a woman? Specifically a woman?" Steve asked, raising an eyebrow. He knew that gender roles had changed drastically since the 40s, but that was a bit much. Then again, there was Natasha…

"It's a female only organization," Natasha spoke up. Think of the devil, she shall appear. "I was invited to be an agent, during my time at the Red Room."

"The Red Room doesn't sound like the type to share," Tony commented, recalling what little Natasha had told them of the Red Room and the KGB. "So, are they evil or what?"

"Depends on who's buying. SHIELD has cooperated with Spectrum in the early days, but it took a lot out of the budget and as soon as they were paid, they were out of the picture," Fury said. "They've worked with national governments, the mafia, even HYDRA."

"They worked with HYDRA?" Steve asked, shocked.

"During World War Two, yes. Some of the Spectrum agents were on the Allied Powers' side, others Axis," Fury replied.

"They're even older than SHIELD," Natasha added. "They go all the way back to the 12th century."

"Are you serious?" Tony exclaimed, slapping his hands on the table. "We're going against an 800 year old organization?"

Steve noticed that Thor was being unusually quiet, standing off to the side and letting the rest of the Avengers fight it out. "Thor, do you know anything about Spectrum?" he asked, noticing that Thor was in deep thought.

"Yes. A few Spectrum agents visited Asgard centuries ago, when I was but a child, seeking refuge from the Dark Elves. Odin granted the request, and they stayed in the palace for about four months. One of them helped Loki with his magic."

The entire room went dead silent. Thor was well over a thousand years old, which meant that his childhood was over six centuries ago. _And_ they had magic. "So, we're going against a bunch of magical old ladies who kill people?" Tony asked, attempting to lighten the mood.

"No," Clint said flatly. "All of the agents never look above forty. We've even seen a few teenagers as Spectrum agents."

"And you're not going against anybody, SHIELD is going to handle this," Fury stated briskly. "Tensions with Spectrum have been high over the last few decades, and I'm not going to have you busting in and ruining all of it."

"But-"Steve began, but oddly enough, Tony, of all people, cut him off.

"Okay, okay, we get it. We'll let you super spies handle it," Tony declared, standing up from his chair and began pushing Steve towards the exit. "Me and Cap'll just go… train or something!"

"Tony, what are you-"Tony shoved him out the door, the inventor quickly following. As soon as they shut behind them, Fury turned to the two SHIELD agents.

"Barton, keep an eye on Stark and Rogers. Romanoff, stay here. Thor…" Fury trailed off, not knowing what to do with the thunder god.

"I shall go to Asgard, and see what the All Father knows of this Spectrum Agency."

"That works." Thor nodded, and exited the room with Clint.

"Sir, what are my orders?" Natasha asked.

"You're coming with me. We're going to San Francisco."

She raised an eyebrow. "Sir?"

"We're meeting a representative from the Spectrum agency in exactly three hours. And Ms. Monroe specifically requested for us not to be late."

-o-

"Tony, what are you doing?" Steve demanded, rather tired of his teammate's relentless internet searching/hacking. The Iron Man was currently typing away on one of his holographic computers, trying to find any and all data on the Spectrum Agency.

"Hold on… and, bingo!" Various pictures and documents popped up on the holographic screen. "This is everything on Spectrum!"

"I thought you said that there was nothing in SHIELD on Spectrum," Steve said with a frown.

"There isn't. This is from someone's secret data base, some French guy. There were a lot of firewalls around it, but not enough to keep me out of it." Tony's grin was incredibly arrogant and a little scary.

Two of the pictures under the words 'Potential Agents' caught his eye. "I know them." Steve pointed to a picture of a woman with gold hair twisted into a bun, and another woman with tanned skin and a scar over her right eye and dark hair flopped over the other. The word DECEASED was stamped across the dark haired woman's picture in big red letters.

"Who are they?" Tony asked, but he was already typing away to find out.

"Astrid O'Hare and J.J. Daring. Astrid led the French Resistance against the Nazis in Paris, and J.J. was a RAF pilot and a friend of Peggy's."

"The blonde is Astrid O'Hare, she's supposedly over six centuries old and one of the founders of Spectrum. Specializes in espionage and manipulation. She's a magic user. Currently residing in Paris. The dark haired chick is Jessica Jane Daring, only about four hundred, soldier for hire and sniper. Also a magic user. She died in 2002, sorry Cap. Wait, she has kids…" A few more keystrokes later and two more pictures popped up. It was a girl who looked about 18 with thick black eyeliner and red lipstick, and a younger girl with multicolored hair, but she only looked 13.

"They don't look like Daring," Steve commented. The older girl had grey eyes, pale skin, high cheekbones, and choppy bleach blonde hair; the younger with curly hair, freckles, and pale eyes. Both of them lacked Daring's tanned skin, dark hair, or shockingly green eyes.

"Yeah… Miss Daring here was just their legal guardian but both of them have her last name. The blonde girl is-"Suddenly the screen went blank, then the words 'GET OUT' flashed on the screen and disappeared as soon as they came. "JARVIS, what happened?"

"The owner of the database accessed the database and found that you were in it. He disabled your systems and boosted the firewalls," the AI explained.

"What percentage of us getting back in?" Tony asked.

"Less than ten, sir. He moved the database to a different server, boosted the firewalls and added new ones, and put out at least twenty decoys. It would take days to figure out which one was real, and then attempt to get through the firewalls and viruses surrounding the database."

"Dammit." Tony fell back in his chair, then sprung back up. "Wait, I've seen that blonde before." He pulled out his phone, went to the camera roll.

"Stark, now is not the time to be taking one of those self-photos…"

"It's called a _selfie_ , get with the times Capsicle. And no, I already have one right here." He tilted the phone in Steve's direction so he could see the screen. There was the blonde girl, a little younger than she had been in the other picture, in a purple gown with her arm slung around Tony's shoulders, both of them flashing peace signs. "This is Jazmine, the daughter of the president of the DGSE. She's some sort of music genius and has an absolutely _amazing_ singing voice. I met her at the Metropolitan Gala a few years ago."

"So the adopted daughter of a Spectrum agent is the actual daughter of the president of the DGSE?" Steve knew of the DGSE. It was similar to SHIELD, but they dealt with less of the 'alien Nordic gods and super soldiers' and more of the normal super spy type of stuff. "She has to know _something_ about Spectrum."

"Yep. And I think I know where to find her."

 **Beta: Mercy**

 **Please favorite, follow, review, etc.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: see chapter 1**

Chapter 4

The café, called the Coffee Cup, was owned privately by an older woman named Bernice. There was only five employees, including Bernice herself. The book store across the street had the same quaint and home town feel to it, despite the fact that it was in the middle of San Francisco. A few nerdy teenagers discussing their school project over coffee on a couch and another teenager, whose nametag read "Sophie" in black Sharpie, was scrolling on her phone behind the counter were the only occupants of the shop besides _her_.

She was ageless – she could have been anywhere from 25 to 55 and not even Natasha would be wiser. Fair skin, but not too pale or too tan. Slender build but not overly thin. Gold hair was pulled into a tight bun at the nape of her neck, a few wavy strands left to frame her face. She wore makeup – foundation with a light hand of eyeliner and shadow along with a bit of blush and natural lipstick - not enough to be noticeable. Thin nose, full lips, heart shaped face. She was a classic beauty, like Audrey Hepburn or Grace Kelly – the type of elegant yet effortless looks that would never go out of style. At the same time, the woman reminded the spy of Agent Hill; she had the same deadly yet professional aura that automatically gained respect from everyone around her, but not a significant enough presence for people to notice her. Everything a Spectrum agent should be.

"Director, I'm so glad you could make it." The woman greeted them with a pleasant smile as they took their seats in the two chairs across from her. She had a slight French accent, not faked or forced. It was very faint, almost as if she was trying to hide it. The woman's eyes fixed on Natasha, skimming over Natasha's blouse and pencil skirt that were similar to the woman's own attire and her fiery hair. Her gaze shifted back to Fury. "Natalia Romanova. Interesting. I wondered where you went."

"Agent Romanoff, this is Astrid O'Hare, one of the founding members of Spectrum." He didn't seem particularly pleased about seeing the blonde woman in front of them. "I though Ms. Monroe was meeting with us."

"I'm assuming you mean Liz, since you didn't take much of a liking to Tori last time we met," she commented, her manicured nails clicking softly on the table, then shrugged. "Then again, no one really likes Tori."

"Quit playing games, Astrid. What do you want with SHIELD, and where is Dr. Banner?" It was clear Fury hadn't taken a liking to Astrid either.

"The latter is classified darling, terribly sorry, but I can tell you what Spectrum wants from SHIELD." Astrid reached into her purse, a grey Louis Vuitton, and gently set a manila file onto the table. Fury reluctantly opened it and found a picture of Loki's scepter staring back at him.

"No," he said immediately, shutting the file and throwing it back on the table, the folder hitting the wooden surface with a loud smack. The coffee shop employee spared a quick glance over at the table to make sure everything was alright, then immediately went back to her phone.

"Take another look inside, under the picture," Astrid suggested, voice smooth as silk. Natasha opened the file once again, moving the photo out of the way. It revealed paperwork, a headshot of an Asian woman with a severe bob and gold-green eyes paper clipped to the rest of the file's contents, the word 'COMPROMISED' stamped across the picture in big red letters.

"Cleo Townsend," Natasha murmured under her breath. Her teacher from the Red Room and an experiment from World War Two. "What-?"

"The Russians claimed Cleo as property of the Russian government, she's being held captive in a secure bunker in Siberia," Astrid cut her off.

"What do you want us to do about it?" Fury asked.

"You can either give us the scepter-"she tapped the first picture with a long nail. "-or you can retrieve Cleo from the Russians in exchange for Dr. Banner."

"I say we storm your base and get Dr. Banner ourselves," Fury growled, drawing attention from the teenagers across the room. Astrid shot them a comforting smile and they went back to their project.

"I'd rather you not make a scene Director," Astrid said, her voice almost a purr. She looked perfectly calm, despite the fact that Fury looked like he was about to blow a fuse. Natasha glanced under the table and saw the shiny revolver pointed directly at the Director's knee. The assassin's hand went for her own gun. "It'd be _such_ a pain to kill you now. And you'll never find our base. You can't even find your own agents if they cut out their trackers. Dr. Banner proved that."

"I'm not letting that monster out of Russian custody. She's killed enough people as it is. And I'm not giving you the scepter either," Fury hissed. Astrid clicked her tongue disapprovingly and shook her head, as if Fury had just lied about taking the last cookie out of the jar.

"Well, then we'll just released the good doctor into… Chicago maybe? Los Angeles? Maybe even here in San Francisco? In his green state of course." Natasha had a sudden urge to slap that little smirk right off her face, then shoot the blonde with her own gun. "There'd be no point to drop him into a city if it wouldn't cause a little chaos."

"We'll think about it," Fury finally responded evenly, standing up and snatching the folder off the table. Natasha followed suit. Astrid took her time, grabbing her purse and slipping a pair of white gloves over her fingers leisurely. They strode out of the café, looking like a group of co-workers going back to the office after lunch, both Natasha and Astrid's high heels clicking on the side walk.

"You mean consult your pathetic council? Have fun with that. Give me a call when you figure it all out." She slipped a business card, not unlike the one Bruce's kidnapper had dropped, into the front pocket of Fury's grey suit, which he had worn instead of his usual leather coat and all black attire. Her hands lingered for a few seconds as she tip toed to kiss him on the cheek. It wasn't an affectionate gesture, more of a mocking one. "Good luck darling," she whispered in his ear, then backed away with the same smirk she had been wearing earlier. Both parties parted ways and walked in opposite direction, both of them thinking about Astrid's proposal and the next move.

-o-

If Steve had to use one word to describe the club, it would be loud. The techno music pumping out of the speakers at a floor shaking volume was loud. The glow in the dark neon shirts and dresses that just about every other person wore were loud. And the club itself, which was painted like a five pack of Sharpie highlighters and accented with glitter along with strobe lights flashing everywhere, was loud. Everything screamed at him - the ear shattering music, the obnoxiously colored patrons and the neon and glitter décor – vying for his attention and overstimulating his senses. Tony, however, seemed completely at home, throwing grins at the brightly dressed girls, who giggled and waved back at him with coy smiles, and 'dancing' (or at least what Steve figured was dancing) to the music.

"Damn, this music is horrible!" he told Steve enthusiastically (and probably sarcastically) as they made their way over to the bar. Tony ordered a scotch, while Steve just had water. There was no point in drinking alcohol that would burn his throat and make his eyes water when he couldn't even get drunk. "Guess Jaz isn't DJ-ying right now."

"No, I'm not," a voice confirmed. A young woman (he could tell by the voice) sat down on the bar stool next to Steve. He couldn't see much because of the low light, but he could make out a thin figure in all black. A pair of headphones hung around her neck and her eyes were partially obscured by her choppy bangs, the rest of her hair pulled into a loose ponytail. "Already went, you missed it by a good half an hour."

"Hey, Jaz! Haven't seen you in a while! What are you, fourteen now?" Tony asked with a grin. "And nice necklace by the way."

Necklace? He glanced at her neck and saw a single black strip of fabric wrapped around her neck, with a black, oval shaped stone in the middle of her neck and metal swirls surrounding the pendant. It was very old fashioned, almost Victorian. He wondered if it was a family heirloom, or something like that…

"I'm nineteen, Stark," she snapped with a scathing look. She had a slight British accent, mixed with something else. French, maybe? "What do you want, I was just about to leave."

"Can we talk outside, it's a bit loud in here." Jazmine nodded and hopped off the barstool, grabbing both Tony and Steve's wrists and weaving her way through the crowd expertly and through a door. They ended up on the fire escape at least three stories up, the cold wind biting into any exposed skin. The bright moonlight allowed Steve to see Jazmine's face, and he was rather surprised at what he saw.

Jazmine looked like she walked off the screen of one of those strange movies Tony had made him watch on Halloween, produced by a man named Tim Burton - she reminded Steve of the Corpse Bride Emily, minus the blue skin and hair. She had a thin frame, so thin he could probably wrap one hand all the way around her waist, much too thin for someone her age and height, like the people liberated from the Nazi concentration camps. Her whole body was all sharp angles, from her high cheekbones that could cut glass to the prominent bones sticking out from her pale skin to her slim, stick-like limbs. Sunken in, stone grey eyes dominated most of her face.

Her attire was almost all black, and rather... revealing for Steve's taste. Her top was missing the bottom half, her shorts could pass for a belt, and even though her tights made her already long legs look endless and very nice he tried to avoid staring at them. The only thing modest about her outfit was her leather jacket, which was about three sizes too big. Coupled with her red lipstick and high heels, her outfit was too mature for someone who was only nineteen. Had her parents really let her out of the house looking like this?

She dug into her pockets and produced a pack of cigarettes, pulling one out and placing it in between her first two fingers, then slid the pack back into the pocket of her jacket. Lifting the cigarette to red lips with her left hand, she raised the other hand and slid her thumb along her index finger in a quick motion, as if igniting a lighter. It produced a small flame on the tip of her thumbnail, as if she really was holding a lighter, and used it to light her cigarette. Tony's eyebrows shot up.

"That's a neat trick. What ya got under those gloves?" he asked. Steve noticed that she wore fingerless gloves the same material and color of her jacket. She glanced over at him and raised a thin eyebrow, lips curving upwards is a smirk.

"What makes you think I got anything?" Holding her cigarette between her teeth, she tugged off her left glove and wiggling her fingers. Steve noted that she had pianist's' hands, long and slim fingers with short but manicured nails. They weren't calloused on the palms, but on the pads and tips of her fingers. She shook the glove to prove that there was nothing in it, then slipped it back on.

"Okay, Steve, this is Jazmine Daring, music prodigy and ballet dancer extraordinaire-"Jazmine shook her head at that "-and this is Steve, my friend."

"I am not a ballet dancer extraordinaire," she told Tony with a scoff as she shook Steve's hand. She murmured a quick "Nice to meet you," and flashed a small smile in Steve's direction.

"You danced for Paris Opera Ballet and New York Ballet Company. I'd say that's pretty extraordinary," Tony said smugly. "But what about the music prodigy part?"

She shrugged. "I don't dance for either of them anymore, but the music part is true, at least according to several news stations and the internet."

"You know what else is true? That you know about Spectrum," Tony said suddenly.

"Smooth transition Tony," Steve muttered, though Tony looked rather triumphant about the topic switch.

Surprisingly, Jazmine nodded her head in agreement. "Yes, I do know about Spectrum. And Dr. Banner. In fact, I helped with the little stunt a few days ago. Cut out his tracker. And I know where he is. Down to the latitude and longitude. But you're going to have to chat with me before you get any answers."

"About what?" Tony asked, taken aback by the request.

She shrugged indifferently. "Anything, everything, I don't particularly care."

Steve pounced on the opportunity. "Smoking is bad for your health." Jazmine just rolled her eyes at him.

"Ugh, anything but that," she said, "and that means you're one of _those_ people." She cleared her throat, and said in a deep voice obviously meant to mock Steve, "Smoking is bad for you; your teeth will fall out and you'll die of lung cancer."

"It'll ruin your voice too," he added, remembering what Tony said about her singing talents.

"I've been smoking these-"she briefly lifted her cigarette away from her mouth and made a small gesture towards it with her other hand "-for, what, four years? And I can still do five octaves. I am _fine_."

He frowned in disapproval. "That's illegal. And they're still bad for you. You'll get lung cancer."

She scoffed and took another drag of her cigarette. "No shit, Captain Obvious. That's what the media's been saying for years. Or should I call you Captain America?"

"I thought you were British, how do you know who Captain America is?" Tony asked, genuinely baffled.

Jazmine rolled her eyes once again. Steve was getting really tired of her attitude. "Just because I'm British doesn't mean I didn't see the Battle of Manhattan. Pretty sure the whole bloody world saw that. And where's Phil, anyway?"

Steve's heart nearly stopped. "Phil? Phil Coulson?"

She nodded. "Yeah, middle aged, brown hair, black suit? SHIELD sent him last time they contacted me. Where is he?"

Tony was at a loss for words, and even Steve struggled to say, "I'm… I'm sorry. He died. Loki killed him during the attack."

She sighed. "That is unfortunate. He provided rather intelligent conversation. And now I have to speak with you two. An egoistic billionaire and America's mascot. Fantastic."

"Excuse me, but what did you just call me?" Steve asked.

She took her cigarette out of her mouth and turned to look him directly in the eye. "Did I fucking stutter? You're the Free World's mascot. You represent the supposedly good parts of this country – freedom, patriotism, whatever. You're a Boy Scout who helps old ladies cross the street. The one who fights off the bad guys, which you probably think is Spectrum, while the rest of the country cheers on their little super hero. The good guy. Everything's black and white for you."

Another step closer. "I change my mind – you're not America's mascot. Your good ole Director Fury is. He's the one keeping the secrets, the one who has the item, the one who holds the switch, fueling the lies, giving the orders, firing the gun. Because that's what America was made from, right? A bunch of chaotic dreamers who got their hands on some guns and decided that they could make their lives better than what was laid out for them? Your country was founded on misinformed rebels who thought they could solve everything with violence, and that's what it is today. A bunch of misinformed agents running around, trying to solve everyone's problems that are none of their business with special powered guns and a helicarrier, marching to Fury's drum and fife."

They were nose to nose now, Jazmine's cigarette coming dangerously close to burning Steve. "You think you're so great, don't you? Well America is an empire, isn't it? And no matter how great it is, just like every empire it-"the cigarette made contact with Steve's skin and he winced at the sudden pain, eyes squeezing shut. A cigarette shouldn't hurt like that, like the heat was rippling over his entire arm. "-will-" She twisted it, burning it even deeper into his flesh and for a second it felt like his whole body was about to burst into flames. A flash of panic shot through his nerves. "-fa-"

The burning stopped and the heat receded from his skin. Steve opened his eyes. There was Tony, armored up to his left forearm, the armored hand closed around Jazmine's throat. She clawed at his hand, legs flailing in an attempt to escape his grip as red-hot embers danced at her fingertips. "Now that you're done ranting, let's talk about Spectrum," Tony deadpanned.

"But we haven't talked enough yet," she growled as she stabbed a small knife into Tony's unprotected upper arm and his repulsor shut off in a flurry of sparks. He hissed a curse and dropped her and as soon as he did, Jazmine pulled the knife out of his arm and vaulted herself off the fire escape and onto the next roof. She suddenly stopped, as if remembering something, then turned around. A bruise was already forming around her neck and her Victorian pendant glowed bright, even from yards away. "Catch me if you can, loves!" she shouted, a maniacal grin on her face as she turned and sprinted away from them, jumping onto the roof two buildings over and getting farther and farther away by the second.

"JARVIS, get the rest of my suit and Steve's shield. It's show time."

 **Beta: Mercy  
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